


Guardian Angelfish

by heartfeltdisease



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Body Horror, Gen, Mental Illness Stuff/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-18
Updated: 2012-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-29 18:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfeltdisease/pseuds/heartfeltdisease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are thirteen and afraid of the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian Angelfish

**Author's Note:**

> See tags for possible triggers. I don't see anything else but if you do, I'd love a heads up on here or tumblr (lookmanoclass).

Your name is Jade Harley. In another universe, you may have been subject to strange commands and unwinnable games in the literal sense, but here, everything is figurative. Life has been hard since you moved into the city, and no one seems to understand.

Backtracking a little, it has already been stated your name is Jade Harley. You are 13 years old, and for all intents and purposes, still very young. You enjoy anthromorphized animals and nostalgic television. However, unlike most children your age, you are very intelligent, with serious interest and skill in firearms, gardening, and the electric bass. Your grandfather had taught you all these things himself – he was ever the eccentric fellow, but incredibly loving all the same. You lost him at the tender age of 10, but found yourself quite okay with this fact. Of course, you missed him and all – but you were always an independent child, and found ways to live without him, without anybody but your big, fluffy dog and lovable online pals.

That is, until one of those online pals contacted social services, who took you away from your country home and your big, fluffy dog, leaving you in the care of a loving elderly couple who wouldn’t let you play with guns, had no backyard, and hated loud noises. They didn’t understand computers. Bored out of your mind, you remembered your other biggest interest.

Sleeping.

You’re currently having a little trouble with that one, too.

\- - - - - -

Sleeping has never been a trouble for you before. In fact, one of the first things they did when they took you away from your plants and toys and dog was to diagnose you as narcoleptic, which as far as you can tell, is a fancy word for likes to sleep. At thirteen, you were starting to understand why everyone else cussed so much and trusted so little – doctors and parents took all the magic away from things.

And now you cannot sleep. You are thirteen and afraid of the dark.

At home – with the sea breeze and the sound of Bec’s snoring – you were never worried about monsters, even when you felt that occasional presence in your room. You had firearms and one very protective dog. Nothing was going to hurt you. To quote one of your sillier friends, you “had that shit on lock.” The shit was so locked, it would take a serious locksmith to crack it.

But the presence you felt as a child did not stay in your old home. It followed you here to this attic room, in the sweltering heat, the fear pressing on your chest. What used to be a monthly or biweekly quirk is now a nightly panic, gripping you like nothing you’ve ever felt.

Tonight, it is worse than ever. As usual, you hear no noise and see no figure, but that does nothing to alleviate the unexplainable sense that you are not alone. You are unsure what it – he? she? – will do to you, if anything, but the mere idea of someone being there terrifies you in a deep, primal way. You are only thirteen, after all. You like to think you have things to live for, though you can’t quite think of them off the top of your head.

You just want to sleep again. Napping doesn’t cut it, especially when your new “parents” and “teachers” wake you up when you pass out in their presence. It used to be that when you slept at night you dreamt of a beautiful yellow world. Now your short, disconnected dreams are memory fragments, flashbacks to when they took you away. Things you don’t want to remember. Maybe, you think, if you sleep at night, you’ll get the pretty dreams back.

Tears well in your eyes at the thought. You’ve tried so hard not to cry, but it’s hard. It’s hard, and you won’t let anyone else understand. The tears quickly dissolve to frantic, uncontrollable sobs, as you curl into a ball, temporarily forgetting your fear in the face of all-enveloping anguish.

And that is when the presence finally speaks.

“Oh cod, are you alright?”

You freeze, tears stopping in their tracks. The terror returns, flooding your veins in a futile attempt to spark a fight or flight reflex. You act like a spooked bunny and hope that you’ll disappear from view if you don’t move.

“I—I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen you cry, though you’ve been through so much, and it’s so weird to see you like this, I mean, I thought I—oh cod—“

The presence moves towards you, resting a warm hand on your shoulder. It almost feels damp. You open your eyes without thinking, and see a strange, gray face. It’s definitely not fully human, but pleasing to the eyes. She doesn’t seem ready to eat you or anything. Her worried frown deepens as she analyzes your expression.

“Sorry, did I scare you?”

You decide to ask a question. Your youth and immersion in pop culture makes it a very cliché one.

“Who are you?”

The strange creature – who you are very sure is female – gives a weak smile. “I’m Feferi. I’m kind of like your guardian angler, or something like that.”

Your mind is spinning.

“I mean, I’m your guardian angelfish – I mean – guardian angel. But not reel-y… It’s sort of complicated.”

“Are you—“ You have to swallow, because this stuffy room makes you dehydrated, “—what’s been watching me?”

“I’ve been watching you a long time!” She says, laughing nervously. “I’ve just been doing it a lot more lately, since you got moved and all. I wanted to make sure everything was fin– I mean fine.”

You have to admit the fish puns are kind of funny, even if they come with the knowledge that a strange fish girl has been watching you sleep since you were little. A small giggle comes out, and she relaxes.

“I’m Feferi. It’s nice to finally speak to you, Jade.”

You smile and sit up. “Nice to meet you, Feferi!” The idea of a friendly presence lifts a weight from your chest. “Why do you watch me, anyway? If that’s okay to ask.”

“Whaaaaaale,” she says. She suddenly seems nervous again. “We—us guardian angelfish things—watch kids, especially special kids like you! We can’t get every kid, and even then we can’t help everyone we do watch… but we try to be there when bad things are happening.”

You are overjoyed that creatures like this, trying hard day and night to keep children like you safe. You are thirteen and overjoyed like a kindergartener receiving a reply from Santa. Questions like how and why don’t cross your mind. You may be thirteen, but you are still naïve.

“That’s great!” You say, bursting with excitement. You haven’t had anyone to talk to – at least not a friend, at least not in person – in ages. Feferi, however, is fidgeting.

“I should reel-y go,” she mumbles.

You don’t understand. “Why?”

“We’re not supposed to talk to the kids.” She says, shifting from foot to foot and fiddling with her jewelry.

“Why?”

“Those are the rules…”

You become angry. “That’s not fair!”

“Rules are rules.” She doesn’t look happy about it either, and that makes you wonder if you can sway her. Your god tier pout makes her more nervous, but otherwise has no effect. Pulling out all the childish stops, you fall back on your bed with a groan.

“That’s so dumb! How are you supposed to help anyone that way?!” You exclaim. You curl up and want to cry again at the cruelty of it all. It’s always the rules! The rules say she can’t talk to you, the rules say you can’t sleep all the time, the rules say you can’t stay where your grandfather is buried, with your dog, where you were safe and happy –

You only realize you’re crying when Feferi lies down beside you and wipes the tears away. “Don’t cry,” she says. “I’ll stay if it helps you.” Without another thought, you hug her tight with a happy squeal. That night, you fall asleep in her arms and dream of Prospit for the first time since you moved.

You are thirteen, and blissfully ignorant of how shellfish you’re being.

\- - - - - -

For a while, everything is beautiful, because you’re thirteen and have a friend to gossip with after school, cry with after dinner, and sleep next to when you’re tired. Feferi listens to everything you say. Feferi gives you all the hugs, all of them. Feferi’s touch is warm and comforting, if not always a touch damp. With her support, you’re sleeping through the night. Your grades are improving. Your new “parents” smiles are less awkward. Everything is looking up.

On some nights, you’ll sneak onto the roof to sit with her and watch the stars.

“Constellations mean a lot to us guardians.” Feferi says one night, as you lay tucked in her arms.

“Reel-y?” You say, smiling like a dork.

She laughs. “No stealing my puns! But yeah, they’re pretty important. The one you’re born under is supposed to decide your skill level at guarding.”

“What’s yours?”

“I’m a Pisces.” She says. “They’re at the top of the scale, so I’m one of the best guardians around! We get assigned to the worst cases. Like yours.”

You reflect for a moment – it was pretty bad before Feferi came along. You snuggle a little closer into her chest.

“I’ve…” A cough you’re sure she’s faking. “I’ve always wondered why I was assigned to you. Even as a Pisces, there isn’t much I can do without talking to you. It used to haunt me. Like, ‘Am I a bad guardian? Is there something I’m missing?’ But I guess I figured it out, in the end…”

You detect an undercurrent in her voice that you can’t recognize, but you ignore it. “Thank you, Feferi. For saving me, no matter what the rules said.”

She smiles and kisses your forehead. “Maybe I am the best. I should change the whole system to work like this!”

“Don’t be so conceited, Fef!”

“What are you glubbing about now?! Geesh, now I get to tickle you!”

“Noooo!”

The sky tonight is the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, light pollution and all.

\- - - - - -

You wake up on the roof, covered in dew and with your foster parents looking at you from the ground. They, understandably, would like to know how you got up there and why. You struggle to find an excuse for your behavior – Feferi is never around in the mornings, and even then you doubt she’d like to meet the couple – and pass it off as a fleeting fancy of yours. When you come home from school, you find your window bolted shut. You spend the evening ranting to Feferi about your stupid, restrictive parents, and she sympathizes.

The next day, you are greeted in the morning by more questions. What were you doing last night? They swear they heard you talking to someone. They say that if you want to have friends over, they’ll let you as long as you tell them. You say you weren’t talking at all last night, that they must have been mishearing – you’re not sure how long you can keep up the lies. That night, you play soft music and pass notes with Feferi. Somehow, it devolves into talk of dancing, and you end up learning to slow dance with her.

“Your hand goes up here,” she says very quietly. “I’ll be the ‘buoy’ for this exercise.”

“You’re just trying to touch my butt! You don’t fool me,” you say with a giggle. She shushes you, and you stop with a tinge of embarrassment.

“Now, step t-oar-ds me… Now sideways…” Dancing seems so natural to you all the sudden. You had never considered it to be one of your strengths, but you are thirteen - you have much still to learn about yourself. The music makes you feel tired and emotional, so you lay your head on her shoulder.

“Hey Feferi?”

“Yes?”

“I know I’ve said it before, but thank you. I really don’t know where I’d be without you.”

The door of your room swings open suddenly and you turn towards it, eyes wide and confused. Your foster mother’s face is a mess of concern, surprise and regret.

“Jade, dear… I think we should take you to see the doctors.”

\- - - - - -

The hospital is white and cold and spinning. Feferi holds your hand the whole time. They try to pull you apart, but you won’t have it - she’s the only thing that makes any sense to you right now, as they whisk you around and your “parents” cry and Feferi coughs and hacks like no tomorrow.

You yell at them to leave you alone. Can’t they tell you have other things to attend to? Something is wrong with Feferi. Her hand is dry. They keep entreating you to “listen, listen” like a stupid video game mentor until you clock one of them and they strap you to a bed.

“I’m sorry, Feferi, I can’t hold your hand like this…” You say, laughing nervously.

She lies beside you and smiles back weakly. “That’s fine.”

“Are you okay?”

She opens her mouth to speak but instead dissolves into violent coughing, hands flying up to cover it - her skin is lighter than you remember - and when she pulls her hands away, they are covered in dark, pinkish blood. Tears rush to your eyes, and you thrash against the restraints.

“FEFERI!”

“Miss Harley, please try to calm down. Sedatives are coming.” The nurse says, a million miles away.

“THIS IS A HOSPITAL, ISN’T IT?! CAN’T YOU SAVE HER?!”

“Please calm down Miss Harley.”

“They can’t see me, Jade.” Feferi says, voice rough and quiet. “You’re the only one who can see me. I’m your guardian angelfish, remember?” Her face is ashen, and has begun to wrinkle. Your chest is gripped tight in panic’s jaws. You’ve never felt anything like this.

“Fe—feri—“

She moves closer despite the shaking give you a kiss, her lips dry as sandpaper, and for some reason it reminds you of the good-bye licks Bec gave you. As she pulls back, you can feel her skin rub off like dust. You begin to scream.

The other nurse enters the room and runs straight to you, shoving the needle in your arm - things start to become hazy, but you can still clearly see Feferi dissolving before your eyes, turning to ash and bone, dust –

“Don’t...” Is the last thing you hear before you lose consciousness.

\- - - - - -

A few months in the future, but not many;

Your name is Jade Harley. You are fourteen years old. You like gym class, and you’re learning to play the flute. Your father says that, if you’re good and keep taking your pills, he’ll take you hunting this fall.

You certainly don’t believe in magic.


End file.
